I’ve spent most of the last couple of days doing voluntary work in the new book and music Oxfam shop Cotham Hill. It’s certainly different to working in Imperial, but all very pleasant. We have had lots of students in the shop buying their “Cooking for one” “ Eating on a grant” type books and maybe picking up a dodgy 80’s CD at the same time. I’m not sure how long I’ll be spending there in total as I’m looking to get a proper job sorted out soon. Still if I have some free time, I may as well spend in there.

The highlight of today had to be the moment when a lady came to the counter with several books, one of which was the screenplay to a TV series from several years ago. One of my female colleagues pointed to the picture on the cover and said, “Isn’t that -----?” “Yes,” said the customer. My colleague then said something along the lines of “He’s a bit tasty isn’t he?” “Yes” replied the woman, “He’s my husband!” I have to admit that I knew of the connection, which made the moment even funnier for me.

I’ve just been listening to the excellent “Jeremy Hardy speaks to the nation” talking about the futility of choice. Very funny, you can listen to it via his BBC Radio 4 web site.

One luxury of working in Oxfam is a full one hour lunch break, at Imperial we could only get away with 30 minutes, so to be able to sit and really relax was a great treat. I made use of time by reading a short story by Zadie Smith called Hanwell in Hell from the New Yorker. Bizarrely the story was set in Bristol in the 1970’s, I don’t think that Zadie Smith has any connection with Bristol, so it was quite strange to read about the delights of Park Street in the New Yorker of all places.